#*t. past

[umyeojin-blog]

37.5°C

@omkiho

april 2019, 9:30 a.m.

( / she’s dying, or it feels like a part of her is. that’s what happens when you’ve poured your heart and soul into a place. said place sits dead-center of a total disaster, the backroom of the bread blue burning ) ( / like the rest of the evacuees, yeojin can do nothing else but stand and watch as the fire gets put out, and when it does, nothing but an overwhelming flood of relief ) ( / at the tail-end of a call to the owner when the first responder emerges from the exit, and she’s quick to meet them in the middle, putting the phone back into her pocket ) god, i don’t even know what to say–

[umhaeil-blog]

lights on

@omgahyun

fall 2012, 12:34 a.m.

she’s the last ride of the night, the october chill too relentless at this point of the hour to think about the tranquility of autumn weather—the thought, among countless others, stopped passing over the second the sun dipped by six-something of the p.m. the cab slows to the side of the road, headlights cutting through the distant dark. the passenger door opens, then slams. adjusting, shifting, metallic zip-unzip, then the click of a seatbelt, the usual of passenger fanfare. haeil turns the radio dial, the host’s monologue nearly tuned out, then makes eye-contact with her at last. “where to, miss?” 

[umhaeil-blog]

precipice

@omsangyeop

2016, 11:57 p.m.  caught in the middle. 

he’s unsuspecting, but when has he ever been anything but? it’s just him, the three minutes between now and tomorrow, and a phone number that haeil hasn’t so much as glanced at in a good four years. no hard feelings—or he hopes. the chances are slimmer than the thread that he hangs by. curiosity kills all, cats and a proper grasp at conversation. he attempts it all the same. 

thumbing in the digits,he brings the phone to his ear. waits like there’s any reason to wait at all, expecting the presence of none and no one on the other end of the line.